PCJ Lockdown by Michael James

Four lockdowns a day,
Always short at least one tray,
The Cell is cold even in the day,
Can't always see the tv cause someones in the way,
Most of us play cards all day....

Few of us are good at art,
But the beans they feed us makes us all fart,
We are like a world apart...

Some of us go to the reck to play,
Basketball or handball during the day,
Or look out the window and watch the day slip away,
If we are lucky the window's open, we get to smell the day,
This is the life of the PCJ.

By Michael A James 9/16/06

Rate this Poem (5 best)